


Too much heart

by beyond_the_nights_world



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Death, Ghosts, M/M, Resurrection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-19 02:34:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7341091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beyond_the_nights_world/pseuds/beyond_the_nights_world
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was a storyrequest based on a gifset in tumblr made by the lovely faramaiofnerdwoodforest</p>
    </blockquote>





	Too much heart

**Author's Note:**

> This was a storyrequest based on a gifset in tumblr made by the lovely faramaiofnerdwoodforest

The predawn light had moved further. The dark of the night just traversed by the silvery light of a deep hanging moon, slowly faded into a pastel-colored cool summer morning. A smell of purity was hanging in the air, surrounding a man who was walking slowly over the dew-fresh meadow. Gauzy fog was hanging a few inches over the ground, fading away in delicate strands with every step he was doing. The world wasn't awake yet and only the occasional chirping of a pair of birds punctuated the silence.  
Castiel didn't see the beauty of the summer morning, didn't hear the friendly sound of the birds, didn't care about the fog, the light and everything surrounding him. He did not deign to look at the tombstones he was passing, some old and weathered, some freshly build up. He just moved forward, his senses leading him to a place beside the main ways. He slowed down just before reaching his destination. A small unremarkable graveyard, decorated with a bouquet of funeral flowers. A red death candle was burning with a flickering light.. Castiel's gaze wandered over the dark texture of the tombstone to the engraved letters, naming the departed , which was lying here.

_“In memoriam of Dean Winchester"_

Castiel rested in front of the grave, his eyes focused on the four letters most important to him. Dean.  
It was the first day he was visiting the grave. Two months after the death of the elder Winchester. Two months after defeating the darkness.  
It had been a strange situation. Dangerous and they nearly had lost the fight. Even the intervention of Chuck hadn't helped and Castiel hadn't been sure, what the exact reason of the victory had been . The last thing he could remember , was expelling Lucifer, confining him in the cage again. And than the world had gone dark.  
He had felt like floating through a big endless nothing and for a moment he hadn't been sure, if they really had won the fight. There had been nothing. No pain, no sound, no light... just the glimpse of the feeling he still was existing in a way he hadn't known before.  
But than the dark had faded, suppressed by the shiny blue light of his healing grace.  
He remembered the moment opening his eyes again. He was alive, was back. But when he had seen Sam's face , he had known that something horrible had happened and he had wished, he had never left the dark again.

Dean was gone, dead... and Castiel thought it was his fault. His own terrible fault.  
His mission was to protect Dean, to save him from worse and he had failed. He had failed because of the egoistic belief to save the world by letting Lucifer take him as a vessel.  
“I am so sorry, Dean”, he whispered, getting the words out of his corded up throat with difficulty.  
“Loss is the most painful emotion a living being is able to feel”, a voice said calmly, persuading Castiel to look up.  
“Then... I want to be dead. Just kill me... kill me and make it stop, father.”  
Chuck smiled mildly while surrounding the tombstone with a few steps.  
“You have withstood so much, Castiel. And you are strong enough to come through this.”  
He waved his hand and a small bunch of colorful flowers appeared in front of the tombstone.  
“It's too strong and I don't understand why this pain makes me feel like I am feeling now.”  
He couldn't even explain the chaos in his head and heart. He had to suffer his whole existence. They had stabbed him, tied him up, tortured him in inhuman ways. Nearly every bone of his body had been broken and he even was abused by his on brothers. But no pain he had ever experienced was like the feeling inside him right now.  
“Every time you had been beaten up, a small part of your soul or of your grace – called it as you wish – had shut itself away, deep inside your body. This part was so safe, so sheltered and it was always the seed of your forthcoming. This thought had held you up, had made you strong. This had always been the reason for you to fight and survive. And now...it is gone and your suffering soul has no place to hide and heal.”  
Castiel looked up, his face twisted in confusion. He had heard the words, Chuck had said, but he didn't understand their meaning. What was he talking about? Maybe the mission God has given him? The loss of an aim, he had for over a decade.  
Castiel felt Chuck's hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently.  
“Let me show you something”, he said and waved his hand again. A person appeared in front of them, translucent like a ghost. He was wearing a shirt with red and white stripes and a basecap.  
“Samandriel?” Cas whispered, irritated about seeing his long gone brother. The figure didn't react to Cas. Instead he was looking into the space in front of him.  


_“I think, too much heart was always Castiel's problem”_ , said Samandriel. The angel disappeared and a new face formed out of the nothing.  


_“It was all about saving one human, right?”_ , the angel called Metatron said.  


“What do you want me to tell, father?”  
Chuck pointed with a finger on Castiel's chest, his gaze concerned. “You didn't get it, huh?”  
Then, he nodded to the place in front of them.  
A third person appeared, wearing a dirty trenchcoat.  


_“I killed two angels this week. My brothers. I'm hunted. I rebelled and I did it - all of it - for you.”_  


Cas remembered the moment, he had said that to Dean. At a time he was full of anger, full of confusion. The scene in front of him changed. The person changed and Castiel's heart skipped a beat.  


_“I'd rather have you, cursed or not.”_  


“Dean?” Castiel stared at the person in front of him, mouth agape. . _“I need you” “I prayed for you every night...” I am not leaving here without you....”_  


The purgatory, the bunker, the life... he could remember every situation, every word Dean had said to him.  
Castiel turned around, covering his ears with his hands.  
“Why are you doing this? Stop it... stop it....”  
Dean's voice faded, the picture faded, leaving the world in the summer morning silence.  
“I'm doing this, because I want you to understand. The loss you feel is not about an aim, not about failing.”  
Chuck walked up to Cas, positioning himself in front of the angel. He lifted his hands, cupping Cas cheeks, forcing the angel to look at him.  
“The loss you feel is about love. The pain you feel is the fight of the two most powerful things in life. Love and loss. And I want you to finally understand it. I can't sustain anymore to see you gambling with your own emotions. You are the first angel, who dived into the depths of human emotion... the most remarkable thing of my creation.”  
Cas closed his eyes. His head was swirling around and the realization hits him like a wrecking ball. He loved Dean from the moment on, he had put a hand on him.  
“It's too late, father.”  
Chuck lowered his hands, smiling brightly.  
“Oh, well. You are still my favourite angel, Castiel. And I am dotty about you and Dean.” He shrugged his shoulders and disappeared.  
Castiel didn't know what to say. It felt like being pranked. Pranked by his own father.  
“Cas?”  
He would recognize this voice out of everything.  
A hand on his shoulder followed. The touch, warm and familiar, was penetrating the fabric of his clothes  
“Dean?” Castiel slowly turned around, afraid of what he might see on the graveyard.  
“Cas!” A smile spread over Dean's face, before he held the angel tight. Cas buried his face into the jacket of the hunter, emotions flooding his entire being.  
A voice was whispering inside his head , chuckling gently. “Don't mess it up, Castiel!”


End file.
